O God, Thou art my God, I seek Thee, my soul thirsts for Thee; my flesh faints for Thee, as in a dry and weary land where no water is. -Psalm 63:1
 
There are seasons in the spiritual life in which you feel parched, as if you’re wandering the desert without refreshment. Silent reflection is filled with distraction. Prayer seems awkward, difficult, or boring. Your heart feels lifeless.
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Lately, despite my attempts to find escape, this sums up my prayer experience. It doesn’t matter that I infuse my days with the Mass readings, a Rosary, Catholic podcasts, or spiritual books. Right now, it seems so much easier to turn on a show or scroll through social media than to pray. Any time I resolve to do the latter, all the things I need to do bombard my mind, or the texts and notifications come in streaming. At Mass, I hear the beautiful words of Scripture and the homily but feel hollow in the pew.

Am I a bad Catholic? Is something wrong?

During times like these, many people of faith get disheartened. They think they have done something wrong in the spiritual life, that God has abandoned them, or that their faith must not be relevant anymore. But all people of faith will experience this to some degree at one point or another! It is often hard to trudge through when warm feelings are absent and prayer requires intentionality and effort, but these times in the spiritual life can be the most fruitful of all.

Our hearts can grow cold and tepid for two reasons: either we’ve slackened in the spiritual life and slowly let the cares of the world take over – like the weeds that choke out the good seed in the parable – or God is calling us to deeper faith and growth. If it’s the latter, this is often a time of spiritual maturation that deepens our faith and love. We choose to cry out to God in prayer not because it makes us feel good or holy or satisfied, but because we trust in God and love him despite how we might feel. We’ve often heard that love is a choice, not a feeling. Therefore, when feelings are absent, God is inviting us to choose him with a love that is selfless and trusting.  The feelings that are lukewarm, indifferent, or distracted are part of the spiritual dryness St. Ignatius of Loyola called “desolation.”

According to St. Ignatius, there are moments in the spiritual life of both consolation and desolation. In times of consolation, we feel especially close to God, find prayer easy, fulfilling, and natural, and have peace and joy. I remember one time talking to a priest in spiritual direction who asked how things were going spiritually. I told him I almost felt guilty because all was going smoothly. He chuckled and told me to enjoy this time of consolation because it wouldn’t last forever—advising me to write down my feelings and spiritual observations as something to look back on in times of dryness or sorrow. A quote attributed to St. Philip Neri sums up this ebb and flow: “As a rule, people who aim at a spiritual life begin with the sweet and afterward pass on to the bitter. So now, away with all tepidity, off with that mask of yours, carry your cross, don’t leave it to carry you.”

How can you carry your cross during this time? Below are some tips to reinvigorate your faith and get you through this time of spiritual dryness.

1. Practice gratitude
2. Call upon the Holy Spirit
3. Turn to Mary
4. Add a daily Mass to your schedule
5. Journal about what’s going on in your heart right now
6. Stick to a prayer routine
7. Avoid making major life decisions
8. Share what’s going on with trusted friends or a spiritual advisor
9. Read about the saints
10. Volunteer or practice works of charity

It is important if you feel indifferent to your faith right now not to give up. I encourage you to re-double your efforts in prayer, seek help from your community and the saints, and persevere. Know that this is a completely normal phase of the spiritual life, that even the saints felt arid at times, and that you are not alone. 

“I am the resurrection and the life, says the Lord; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will never die.”
 
Today’s Gospel challenged my understanding of what it means to be compassionate. When Jesus learned that a loved one was ill, He responded in a peculiar manner. He didn’t rush to the sick one’s side or hurry to comfort His beloved’s family. Rather, He waited two days.
 
Why did He wait two days? I sure wouldn’t have done that. If He knew all along that He would raise Lazarus, why would He prolong the wounded agony of Mary and Martha? How could Jesus desert those He loved in their moment of need? It seems almost like a test, a cruel and unnecessary test.
 
Yet I suspect Jesus had a different intention. By waiting two extra days He was not punishing or testing Mary and Martha but inviting them to examine their own brokenness. The idea of resting in brokenness, rather than avoiding it, has been a particularly challenging concept for me. I first encountered it in Bryan Stevenson’s book Just Mercy, in which Stevenson says “We can embrace our humanness, which means embracing our broken natures and the compassion that remains our best hope for healing. Or we can deny our brokenness, forswear compassion, and, as a result, deny our own humanity.”
 
It seems that Jesus chose the former. When He finally arrived in Bethany and witnessed the woundedness of those He loved, He “became perturbed and deeply troubled.” Then, “Jesus wept.” Knowing that Jesus wept helps me reclaim my own brokenness and affirms that truly embodying compassion requires entering into the chaos of woundedness, both my own and that of the “other” person.
 
Prayer: God of grace, help me rest in my woundedness. When I feel most alone and deserted, remind me of Jesus’ constant refrain “Do not be afraid.” Help me remember that Jesus Himself, the almighty Son of God, wept for the pain of His community. Let me never forget that one of Jesus’ greatest miracles of raising Lazarus from the dead was precipitated by His solidarity in suffering with those He loved dearly. Amen.
 
Focus on: Social Justice
How have you been wounded by the, as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. puts it, “sickness of racism, excessive materialism, and militarism?” How can you – and your surrounding communities – enter into this brokenness and encounter healing compassion?
 
Service Inspiration: My mother, Sue, understands part of my volunteer experience, but struggles with other components. However, I recently babysat for a colleague’s children, a two-and-a-half year old and a six-month old. When I left, I was exhausted. I realized later that I watched two boys the same age difference as my brother and I, but only for a few hours. My mom did it for years, and then became my teacher and homeschooled us. She served as an enormous role model, never asking for thanks or recognition, silently taking on her children’s struggles. She is an inspiration and reminder of Jesus here on Earth.
 
*This Lenten reflection was originally published on the Catholic Volunteer Network Blog and was posted with permission.  
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Greg Hamilton attended Saint Michael’s College in the grace-filled Green Mountain State of Vermont and is currently serving as a Jesuit Volunteer in Washington D.C. at the Campaign for the Fair Sentencing of Youth. Most days, Greg finds a way to involve his favorite poet, ​Mary Oliver, in his routine. ​

I recently came back from a summer vacation to England and Scotland. Whenever friends and family have asked about my favorite part of the trip, I always say the Scottish Highlands and English Lake District. The beauty of the tall mountains with peaks hidden in the clouds and covered in the brightest green foliage takes your breath away. Peering up at these magnificent stone crags with my head tilted back to face the sky, I couldn’t help but mutter a continuous, “Wow!” The first thought that entered my head was the lyric from the song “Shoulders” by the Christian band For King and Country: I look up to the mountains / Does my strength come from the mountains? / No, my strength comes from God / Who made heaven, and earth, and the mountains.
 
The entirety of my trip, I saw God in simple things – a sunny day without rain, swans and ducks swimming in ponds, the architecture of a beautiful church, sheep and cows grazing in fields, fellow tourists greeting me with a funny story and smile. It took a plane ride across the Atlantic for me to become refreshed and remember to purposefully think about God’s presence in all things, no matter how ordinary the moment may be. After my trip, I thought about several ways in which I can continue to find God in everyday life.

1. Slow down and be present in the moment. Purposefully reflecting about each action taken throughout the day – talking to a coworker, driving to/from work, answering emails – and being fully present in those moments helps to bring our minds to the present rather than the future or past. During these routine tasks, we should try to think about the intention of these actions instead of whatever checklists we have to fulfill that day. What is God trying to tell us in this simple moment?
2. Review the day. Examining the experiences, thoughts, and feelings felt during the day can usually uncover moments of God’s presence that were first missed in the present. Journaling or reflecting in prayer are helpful practices. This review of the day is a part of Ignatian Spirituality called the Examen.
3. Surprise someone. Shortly after I arrived back in the U.S. from my trip, one of my closest friends gave me a surprise phone call. She wanted to set aside time to hear about my trip and catch up on other details of life. I was touched by her thoughtfulness. We ended up talking for three hours, and I would have to count on four hands the amount of times I found God in the conversation. Something very small, like a phone call, can have a huge impact.
4. Find the positive in the midst of the negative. An older gentleman at my parish church always finds a way to see the good in a situation. He has a kind word to say about everyone he meets, discovering their inherent gifts to share with others, and giving them genuine compliments. When I’ve asked him how he can remain so cheerful amid negativity or discouraging news, he tells me that it’s all about choosing to find the happiness in each day.
5. Listen. Are we actually listening to our parents when they call us? How about the coworker we’re working on a group project with? The digital world has sped up the amount of multitasking we think we can perform, but at the cost of authentic human interactions. That emergency text from our friend may require an hour phone call instead of only an emoji. When we slow down and process what those around us are saying and needing, we find God in those moments of happiness, joy, sadness, and advice-giving.
6. Find ways to focus on others. When we spend our energy on others, we become less self-absorbed and concerned with worldly thoughts. One of St. Augustine’s prayers says, “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.” Shedding worldly needs and thinking of our brothers and sisters in Christ help us to focus on God’s individual plan for us.
7. Enjoy the nature around us. The natural world provides us with so much beauty and wonder that it is important not only to admire it, but also to acknowledge God’s creation and take care of it. In Pope Francis’ encyclical Laudato Si, he says, “The universe unfolds in God, who fills it completely. Hence, there is a mystical meaning to be found in a leaf, in a mountain trail, in a dewdrop, in a poor person’s face. The ideal is not only to pass from the exterior to the interior to discover the action of God in the soul, but also to discover God in all things.”
8. “God is here.” When times are dull or draining, it can be hard to think about God or even be optimistic. But if we say, “God is here in this moment,” it can be easier for us to reflect on his lesson for us that day. Reminding ourselves of this gives us the extra spirit to carry out tasks of the day.
9. Practice generosity. On Facebook, I enjoy following pages dedicated to rescue animals. In one recent photo, a mother cat who just had a litter of kittens also took in an orphaned kitten and fed it. A video of a guide dog helping a blind dog has gone viral and completely warmed my heart. When we look at animals interacting with one another and offering up all they have to help a fellow creature, we can see God in these acts of generosity.
10. Do things the “old fashioned way.” Technology has provided us with many ways to automate tasks, or make them easier. However, sometimes doing things the “old fashioned way” allows us to put more thought into the action. Handwriting a note to a loved one, talking to a coworker in-person rather than via email or phone, and walking to lunch rather than driving are some examples of how we can slow down and reflect more easily on God’s presence.

 
For more resources on Laudato Si', please click here. 

Growing up, my family celebrated Thanksgiving in a traditional way. We would wake up around 8am, watch the “Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade,” Broadway musicals, and wait for the rest of the parade to stroll through New York City - from our television. In between the commercials, we would help each other cook and prepare the dinner (which was usually eaten around 1pm or 2pm). As we all grew older and moved away, my siblings and I started making our own memories with those we loved around us. Sometimes, we’ll be surrounded with more than ten people and other times it is just two of us. Sometimes, we have just enough to feed us and other times we have leftover for days. But no matter what, Thanksgiving for me is about “the food before us, the family beside us, and the love between us.” 

When reminiscing on Thanksgiving, I also think immediately of the Psalms. To me, the Psalms help provide a great variety of prayers of thanksgiving for what God has done for His people. Sometimes, we forget that God is the one we need to thank. We get caught up in our own lives and think that we only need to be thankful for our gifts and talents. In my 2nd grade classroom, my students take a moment to pray a prayer of thanksgiving at the end of the day. Psalm 28:7 sums up my point: The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song. The more we find moments to thank God for parts of our days and lives, the more we are aware of our own need to do good for others.

Being a “person for others,” as promoted by Ignatian spirituality, means helping those around you wherever you are and in everything you do. This is how I try to give back, by being a person for others. People need our help and we can give that through sending prayers, providing food, finding shelter, understanding the plight, giving resources, sending love and so much more! Every year, my dad leaves Thanksgiving dinner to donate turkeys to local families and people who need their own Thanksgiving dinners. Doing unto others as you would want them to do to you is the way to live throughout the year. This way of looking at life encompasses more than a holiday.

The following poem by Joanna Fuchs is about how each thing in our life can be a blessing for us - especially at Thanksgiving. 

​Happy Thanksgiving!

As a recipient of 8 years of Jesuit education, I, like so many others, can testify to the impact that St. Ignatius has had on my life. I have often wondered what makes St. Ignatius so popular. What about his spirituality lead to the largest order of priests in the world? What about his life has drawn students to his education for centuries?

There is an old phrase, “where the rubber meets the road,” that is often used to describe a moment of truth, or a time when something very important happens. St. Ignatius’ magnum opus was The Spiritual Exercises, a text written to guide a reader along a spiritual retreat. In the early 1500s, lay people could not go on retreat. People had to work each day just to survive. Even though there was a spiritual thirst, the general population did not have a way to bring Christ into their lives in a meaningful way. St. Ignatius sought a way to bring Christ into the daily life of all people, not just priests and monks. Because of the Spiritual Exercises, lay people were given a method in which to  allow Christ into their daily lives, allowing Him to help shoulder their daily burdens. Now, people could fully experience the truth Christ had to offer. For St. Ignatius, a better way to express the old phrase would be “where the shoulder meets the cross.”

In modern times, with so many opinions and an overabundant access to information, many often find it difficult to discover relevance in their lives. In times when the Church is often considered to be “out dated” and “not relevant,” St. Ignatius gives us proof that Christ desires to find us no matter where we are in our lives. St. Ignatius also showed us that in order to be found, we must be disciples. We must answer the invitation Christ offers with His simple words “follow me” (Mark 2:14).

The success of the spirituality of St. Ignatius today shows the desire for Christianity that is relevant to one’s own life. St. Ignatius gave everything up and allowed Jesus into his life completely. In so doing, he was able to share his struggles and joys with the Lord. In following the spirituality of St. Ignatius, Christians today can bring Christ into their lives in a meaningful way, and can find Christ “where their shoulders meet the cross.”

Suscipe by St. Ignatius

Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty,
my memory, my understanding and my entire will
- all that I have and call my own.
You have given it all to me.
To you, Lord, I return it.
Everything is yours, do with it as you will.
Give me only your love and your grace.
That is enough for me.